


darling, i see you celestial

by skyclectic



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Doctor Who Fusion, Established Relationship, F/F, Light Angst, Non-Linear Narrative, messy timelines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:41:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23661745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyclectic/pseuds/skyclectic
Summary: They are an impossible love story, told in the wrong order.They find each other at random points in their timelines. Backwards and sideways, and every which way imaginable. Except forwards.But still, they love.-----Or the one where Mina is the last of the Time Lords, and Sana is a fellow time-traveller and also the great love of her life.
Relationships: Minatozaki Sana/Myoui Mina
Comments: 16
Kudos: 148
Collections: ~Darling and Honey~ A Misana Collection





	darling, i see you celestial

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZeroHorizon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroHorizon/gifts).



> This fic draws a lot from Doctor Who (2005), both the tv show and the copious amounts of amazing fics from the fandom, especially some brilliant fics from mygalfriday (BrinneyFriday), that I binge-read some time ago. It's basically the tragic love story of the Doctor and his wife, River Song. For those who aren't familiar:
> 
> _The Doctor (real name unknown) is the last of the Time Lords, an alien species with two hearts that travels across time and space in a time machine called the TARDIS. River Song, his wife, is a human and a fellow time-traveller. As a result, their timelines are usually out of sync and they meet at different, random points in their personal timelines._
> 
> In this fic, Mina is the Doctor and Sana is River, and the narrative of the fic reflects an equally messy timeline and the time-travel aspects. I apologise in advance for any confusion because of the non-linear structure.
> 
> \---
> 
> Thank you to every single one of my friends who have helped beta-ed this fic and been there for me as I wrote it. <3
> 
> Lastly, but most importantly, this fic is for Julie, the sunshine to my rain and the biggest misana enthusiast I know. Her love for misana even led to this fantastic collection, so please thank Julie for driving the misana fic agenda :)

limitless, undying love  
which shines around me like a million suns  
it calls me on and on  
across the universe  
  
_\--across the universe, the beatles_

/

**Hello, darling.**  
**Marry me?**  
**ΘΣ Φ ΓΥΔϟ**

Mina stares at the screen in disbelief. A proposal spray-painted all over the oldest cliff face in the entire universe. Unapologetically loud and brazen, in shimmering rose-gold letters. 

The TARDIS hums low. A long note like it’s torn between exasperation and amusement. Mina ignores it, and reads the message again. She feels incredulous laughter bubble up her throat and that pleasant skip of her heartbeats she’s always associated with Sana. Dutifully, like every other time, she enters the set of Greek numerals (Sana's preferred way of writing space-time coordinates) into the control panel. Then, she pulls the lever and lets the TARDIS take her to where Sana is waiting.

  
  


Mina flicks the silencer switch off just before the TARDIS lands. She’s always preferred quiet landings, but Sana enjoys the cacophony of whooshing and wheezing as the TARDIS rematerialises. And she knows too that Sana takes comfort in the noise, in the fact that it firmly announces Mina’s safe arrival.

As if on cue, there’s a series of knocks on the TARDIS door. A random collection of taps that create a joyful kind of melody. Mina’s hearts sing in reply, and a smile steals over her face. The TARDIS hums again, teasingly this time, like it’s making fun of the way Mina turns into a complete fool for Sana.

“Oh, hush,” Mina chides, giving the console a sharp rap with her knuckles. The TARDIS responds by extending the dashboard mirror in her direction. Mina checks how she looks, and then pulls out a tube of her favourite lipstick from her coat pocket. It’s Sana’s favourite too, which means Mina will probably never switch to another colour again. 

The knocks on the door grow more hurried, an impatient crescendo that makes Mina chuckle. Still, she takes a few seconds to check her appearance one last time before she heads outside.

There’s a surprised gasp when Mina pulls the door open. She ducks her head, hiding from Sana’s searching gaze. Mina is centuries old and the last of the Time Lords, but Sana still makes her blush like an infatuated teenager.

“Darling,” Sana murmurs after an extended beat. Her palm cups Mina’s cheek, fingers tangling in Mina’s hair. “You dyed your hair blonde.”

Mina meets Sana’s eyes, trying to quell the fluster in her veins at the reverent way Sana is looking at her. “I wanted to surprise you. Do you like it?”

Sana laughs, delight and amusement deepening in her eyes before softening into fondness. Always fondness. And so much love. “I love it. And I love you. In every way, shape or —“

Mina doesn’t let her finish; she kisses Sana hard enough to bruise. It’s been too long since the last time they’ve kissed, since the last time Mina has held Sana in her arms like this. 

“You know,” Sana says when they finally pull apart to breathe. “I think you’re only supposed to kiss the bride _after_ the wedding vows.”

“Shut up.” Mina rolls her eyes at Sana’s cheeky grin. “We’re _already married_. You just love weddings and collecting marriage certificates from hundreds of different galaxies.”

Sana’s eyes crinkle. “I’d be a fool to not marry you over and over again.”

Mina hums. Completely on impulse, she leans in and plants a wam kiss over the curve of Sana’s cheekbone. She’s pleased when Sana’s grin dissolves into the softest of smiles, the kind she reserves just for Mina. It’s the same smile that accompanies every single one of Mina’s dreams and all the times she’s travelling alone, without Sana beside her. 

She reaches for Sana’s hand and laces their fingers together. “Let’s go get married again, then.”

  
  


Later, when the officiant asks Sana to state her vows, she promises Mina the usual things she always does. Then, with a little quirk of her lips, she adds,

“I love the honeymoon too. We’re good at that, the honeymooning. We always have such a _spectacular_ time.”

  
  


/

  
  


They are an impossible love story, told in the wrong order. 

They find each other at random points in their timelines. Backwards and sideways, and every which way imaginable. Except forwards. 

But still, they love. 

There are some days, some very special days, when they almost meet in the middle. They cling to those hours and hold on to each other fiercely, for as long as time permits.

But it’s never enough. 

  
  


/

  
  


Mina frowns at the psychic paper in her hands, which bears coordinates and only two words:

**_Tea, darling?_ **

She doesn’t recognise the neat handwriting or the string of little hearts scribbled at the bottom of the note. 

But Mina has always been a curious creature, with wanderlust thrumming in her veins. It’s what compelled her to steal the TARDIS and run away from home hundreds of years ago to explore all of time and space.

She lands on the planet Illyria in the 37th Century, right in the middle of the town square. It’s bustling, full of different species and noise created from a jumble of alien languages. 

No one notices when Mina steps out of the TARDIS, eyeing the crowd warily. She’s always felt out of place among throngs of people. She slips her hand into her coat pocket and finds comfort in the feel of her sonic screwdriver. 

Looking down at the psychic paper briefly, Mina scans the area. She spots the cafe she’s looking for at the opposite side of the square. _Dreamday Cafe_ , says the wooden sign above the entrance.

Figuring that she’s got nothing to lose now that she’s already here, Mina makes her way to the cafe. Inside, the decor reminds her of quaint Parisian cafes on Earth. Mina looks around, confused. Until her eyes land on a familiar figure, sitting at a corner table.

There are two cups on the table, and a steaming pot of tea. There’s also a plate of fruit tarts, though it looks untouched.

Mina swallows. She doesn’t feel ready for this, ready to face Minatozaki Sana so soon after their first meeting at The Library when Sana had — 

But this is a different Sana, from another time. A Sana in a black leather jacket and with hair the same shade as cotton candy. A Sana with the most brilliant, carefree smile as she looks up and notices Mina approaching. 

It’s stunning. Sana is stunning. Beautiful, even. Possibly the most beautiful thing Mina has ever seen. Mina’s breath catches without her permission. 

When she reaches the table, Sana’s eyes are bright and welcoming. She gestures for Mina to take a seat and waits until Mina is settled before nudging the plate of fruit tarts in Mina’s direction. 

“The tarts aren’t as good as the ones we had at that cafe near Cassiopeia. But I think you’ll still enjoy them.” 

Mina takes a shaky sip from the cup of tea in front of her. “Cassiopeia?”

A flicker of emotion clouds over Sana’s face for a second. Her smile slips but she quickly hitches it back into place.

“Never mind. Spoilers,” she says airily, waving her hand. Then, she pulls something out from her jacket pocket and puts it on the table. It’s a stack of worn cards. “You want to start?”

Mina blinks. “Start?”

Sana nods towards the cards, and Mina can’t help the sudden thrill of excitement that runs through her. She _loves_ card games, and it’s been a while since she last played. 

“Are we playing a game? Is it _Sushi Go!_? That one’s always been my favourite. All the different sushi combinations! I do enjoy collecting the Tempura cards too, though. Those are the best for getting all the points.”

Mina looks up, expecting a fond smile of exasperation. But Sana’s eyes are liquid, her eyelashes wet. Her face is pale. All the warmth from just moments ago has been replaced by heartbreaking devastation. 

“Sana?”

“You haven't — You’ve never done this before.”

Mina hesitates. “Is it a new game?”

Sana swallows shakily. Her smile is forced, tight around the corners. It doesn’t reach her eyes. She reaches for a card with a trembling hand and flips it over so Mina can see. 

“It’s a special game we play.”

“I don’t — I don’t quite understand.” Mina takes in the questions scribbled down on the cards. She recognises her own handwriting, and Sana’s neat script. _Favourite Disney movie? Summer or Winter? Favourite breakfast food? If you could choose to be a member of a girl group, which group would you choose?_

“It’s one of our rituals,” Sana says stiltedly, as though everything about this moment pains her. “Every now and then, when time allows it, we have tea and catch up.”

Mina frowns. The crestfallen look on Sana’s face tells her that she’s missing a large piece of the puzzle. “With these cards as conversation topics?”

Sana shrugs and offers Mina a wry smile. “They’re all spoiler-free. A way for us to talk without giving anything away — I’m sorry. I thought I sent the message to an older you.” 

_An older you who knows me._ It’s left unsaid, but Mina hears it all the same.

“I'm sorry, Mina. You don't have to stay —”

“Sana,” Mina cuts in gently. She reaches out and lays her hand on Sana’s arm. She barely knows Sana, but she remembers that same haunted look in Sana’s eyes from the first time they met in The Library, the _last time_ , and Mina never wants to be confronted by that look ever again. “I _do_ want to get to know you. That’s what these cards are for right? To get to know each other.” 

Mina offers her best smile, and then takes a random card from the stack. “So, if you could be reborn as a flower, which flower would you pick and why?”

Sana’s smile is still dim, but her shoulders lose a bit of their tension. “A sunflower, I think. I like that they look like the sun. I want to — I want to be that for someone, to be the little bit of sunshine in their lives.”

 _Is that what you become to me?_ Mina thinks, but doesn’t say. Instead, she tilts her head and studies Sana carefully. Long enough for Sana to blush prettily and let out a little bashful giggle that makes Mina’s hearts skip a beat.

“I think it suits you. You burn so brightly, you put the sun to shame.”

This time, when Sana smiles, it’s brilliant. And burns brighter than a thousand suns from a thousand different galaxies.

  
  


They stay for another hour, exchanging easy questions and sidestepping any spoilers they can’t talk about. Mina learns that Sana loves eating spicy food and hates eggplants. She learns that Sana enjoys collecting perfume and body mist and that she once wrote a petition (she doesn’t say to whom) to restore Pluto back to planetary status. 

In return, Mina tells Sana about her affinity for Lego and jigsaw puzzles, about how she can spend hours on end working on a new one. She lets Sana in on a secret too — that it was her who convinced all nine SNSD members to reunite for their 25th Anniversary and go on an extended world tour.

At the end of it all, when they’re leaving the cafe together, Mina finds that she _Iikes_ Minatozaki Sana — she’s witty and sharp, yet soft around the edges. But more than anything, she looks at Mina with so much warmth, with so much tenderness, that Mina knows she’s going to fall, fast.

Or maybe she already has. 

“So, until next time then? Will you send me a message again?”

“Spoilers.” Sana’s eyes are crinkled into crescent moons. “See you around, darling.”

She’s gone a second later, in a zap of sonic blue light and wisps of smoke. Mina walks back to the TARDIS, already wondering how long she’ll have to wait before they meet again. 

  
  


/

  
  


They stumble into the TARDIS, Sana barely managing to hold Mina up. 

“Hang on,” she murmurs, half-carrying and half-supporting Mina into their bedroom. 

Mina collapses onto the bed with a pained moan. Her insides feel like they’re on fire, and she’s starting to shake uncontrollably. Gentle fingers turn her on her side and unzip the expensive dress she’s wearing. Then she’s on her back again, gasping for air with rattling breaths.

“Sana —“ she tries, but the words catch in her throat. _God, why does everything hurt so badly?_

“It’s okay,” Sana soothes, brushing the feverish sweat off Mina’s forehead. “You’ll be okay.” 

It’s the last thing Mina sees before the darkness takes over — Sana’s face pinched tight with worry, swimming in and out of focus in her blurry vision.

  
  


When Mina wakes up, she’s alone on a strange bed. It takes far too long for her to get her bearings and recognise the green crescent above the door of her room. She’s in the New Tokyo Hospital, one of the best ones on New Earth, 50,000 light-years away from the original Earth. Sana must have brought her here after she passed out.

With some effort, Mina uses what little strength she has to sit up. She reaches for the call button on the bedside table. A friendly nurse enters her room barely a minute later to check on her. Mina learns then that she was poisoned with the deadly sap of the Judas tree. Probably from the Lychee Martini that shady black marketeer offered her. 

Mina learns that by the time Sana landed the TARDIS in the middle of the Emergency Room, both her hearts had already stopped. By some miracle, though, they were able to restart Mina’s hearts before she started regenerating. 

“You’re very lucky, Doctor,” the nurse tells her. She calls Mina by the name she had chosen for herself, the name she tells the rest of the universe. Because her _real_ name is a sacred thing that only one other person in all of time and space knows. “Our research team had just developed an antidote for the poison. It worked wonderfully on you. Professor Minatozaki must have known that when she brought you here.”

Mina smiles at that. Yes, Sana must have known exactly where to take her, exactly what to do to save Mina’s life. Sana, lovely, wonderful Sana, whom Mina loves with every fibre of her being.

“How long was I out?”

“It’s been a week. Your body needed some time to recover. But we haven’t seen the Professor since she brought you in. She left with your TARDIS, saying she had some business to take care of.” 

As if on cue, the door to her room is thrown open with enough force to rattle its hinges. Sana bursts into the room, eyes wild and burning with fury. 

“Professor Minatozaki!” The nurse exclaims disapprovingly. Sana shoots her a sharp, withering glare, and the nurse hurriedly scurries out of the room without another word.

Mina takes in the sight before her — Sana, with a nasty cut on her cheek and anger drawn tightly in every line of her face and in the way she holds herself. She has never seen Sana like this: hell-bent and a wild, uncontrollable thing. 

“Sana,” Mina murmurs, catching Sana’s attention from where she’s glaring at the door, probably burning holes into the poor nurse’s back.

Sana whirls around immediately. And Mina can see it, the way the rage dissolves from her entire frame. Instead, Sana just stares at her, as if reluctant to believe that Mina is still here, still _alive_.

“Come here, honey.” Mina holds out her hand. She offers Sana a reassuring smile. 

Stiltedly, as if still in complete disbelief, Sana takes tentative steps towards her. It’s only when Mina’s fingers are tangled in hers that Sana lets out a quivering exhale. Her face crumples, and then she’s collapsed onto Mina’s chest, trembling under the weight of her sobs. 

_It’s okay,_ Mina soothes, running her hand up and down the staircase of Sana’s spine. _I’m okay, honey. I’m okay._

  
  


Later, Mina violates the hospital’s rules and lets Sana curl up with her in bed. Sana’s warmth has always been the best kind of comfort. She breathes Sana in — the scent of sweet perfume, desert rain and warm summer days — and feels at home. 

“You almost died,” Sana whispers, voice still hoarse from crying. 

“But I didn’t,” Mina tells her. She kisses the skin above Sana’s brow. “You saved my life.”

Sana shudders, and then burrows deeper against Mina’s side. Her cheek is pressed to Mina’s breastbone, like she’s trying to count every single one of Mina’s heartbeats. “Luck. It was pure luck.”

Mina makes a little disgruntled noise. She nudges Sana’s ribs until Sana moves, just enough for them to look each other in the eye. 

“Sana, you brought me to the one place in the entire universe, _in all of time and space_ , that had an antidote.” Mina says fiercely. She reaches up and ghosts her finger over the cut on Sana’s cheek. “And I know you didn’t get this cut from hunting down the Judas tree, honey.”

Sana’s eyes drift closed for a second at Mina’s words. When she opens them again, there’s a fierceness in them that makes Mina’s hearts ache. With love, with longing, with the desperate need to hold on to Sana forever. 

“I may be only a Professor of Archaeology,” Sana begins, her gaze never wavering from Mina’s face. “But I would _never_ let anyone who hurts you get away with it.”

“I know, honey. But, I can regenerate you know? I’m a Time Lord.” 

“Shut up. We both know you only have one regeneration left. What if you need it later, when you’re travelling alone?”

“Sana — “ 

“Darling, for you, I’d do _anything_.” 

The ache in Mina’s hearts deepens. _Oh honey_ , she thinks, _I’d do anything for you too. I’ll rip the fabric of time and tear the universe apart, if I have to._

“Will you marry me?”

There’s a pregnant pause. Mina’s words hang in the air, settling into the space between them. 

“What?” Sana asks tremulously, her eyes searching Mina’s own. “What do you mean _marry_ —“

Mina doesn’t let her finish. She kisses Sana hard, with a kind of desperation she’s never felt before. All she knows is that she wants to feel like _this_ for the rest of her life. She wants Sana to be hers, in the same way she wants to be Sana’s. Just the two of them — an impossible kind of infinity — against the universe, against all the rules of time and space.

When she pulls away, Sana’s eyes are closed. Mina takes in the way Sana’s cheeks are dusted with a hint of pink, the way her eyelashes are a brush of charcoal against her porcelain skin. Beauty and home, and Mina's entire universe, all in one. 

A memory flashes suddenly through her mind: Sana in The Library, and the words she had said. Mina pushes away the accompanying ache whenever she thinks of that moment — a fixed point in time that’s both a beginning and an ending. Instead, she thinks of Sana’s words from then, and echoes it now in the present, with her palm tenderly cupping Sana’s cheek. _Her Sana_. 

“What do you say, honey? Just you and me, and all of time and space.”

Sana’s eyes flutter open. “Yes,” she breathes, holding Mina’s gaze steadily. Unwavering. Steadfast in their love and in the two of them together, the universe be damned. 

  
  


/

  
  


With a quiet hum, the TARDIS lands on The Library, a planet-sized repository, powered by a highly advanced supercomputer that holds every book ever written. It’s in the middle of the 51st century, which means The Library should be bustling with people. Strangely, the TARDIS scanner shows Mina a reading that indicates there are only two humanoid lives present on the planet.

Herself, and whoever is currently knocking on the TARDIS door. Mina frowns at the random collection of taps that somehow creates a strangely joyful melody. 

An unfamiliar face greets her when Mina pulls the door open. It’s a woman with long black hair that falls past her shoulders. She’s smiling cheekily at Mina, who only blinks in confusion. 

“Hello, darling. I see you got my message.”

Mina’s confusion only grows at the intimate greeting. She has _no_ idea, not even the faintest clue, who this woman is. It must show on her face, because the woman’s smile falters. 

“Please tell me you know I am.”

Mina hesitates. She closes her eyes for a second, searching her mind and looking through the catalogue of all the faces she’s ever met. But she comes up empty. “…Who are you?”

The woman’s face crumples into a look so absolutely devastated that Mina feels hurt blossoming deep in her chest, too. Tremulously, the woman wipes away a stray tear that slips down her cheek. “I should have known. When you landed the TARDIS with the silencer switch on… I should have known. You’re younger than I’ve ever seen you. You’re not —”

“I’m sorry, but…You know how the TARDIS works?” Mina interrupts, curiosity getting the better of her. None of her companions that she’s travelled with before have ever worked out the TARDIS controls. But maybe this woman is a future companion? Or maybe just someone that has a TARDIS too?

“Of course,” the woman says with a pained smile, broken at the corners. “You taught me how to fly the TARDIS when we were…Nevermind. Spoilers.”

“Spoilers?”

“You’ll see, one day.” The woman takes a deep, shuddering breath, and then holds out her hand for Mina to shake. “My name is Minatozaki Sana. I’m a Professor of Archaeology at the Luna University.” 

Mina takes Minatozaki Sana’s hand. She feels the tiniest of sparks shoot up her veins when she meets Sana’s liquid eyes. Like the universe is trying to tell her something that she can’t quite understand yet.

  
  


The Library is eerily empty. Dark, and silent. Like a graveyard. Together, Mina and Sana walk through the hallowed halls, once teeming with the brightest scholars in the universe. Their footsteps echo loudly, filling in the absence of words between them. The awkwardness is unbearable to Mina, but she cannot think of anything to say. Not when there are a million questions running through her mind about Sana.

“Thank you.” Sana finally speaks, just as they enter the main reading room. Her eyes are still broken shards of heartbreak that Mina cannot comprehend. 

“For what?”

“The usual. For always coming when I call.”

For a moment, Mina is struck speechless. By the implication that one day, this unfamiliar stranger becomes someone Mina keeps coming back to over and over again. 

“Who _are_ you?”

“I already told you. I’m Professor Minatozaki Sana, from the Luna —“

“No,” Mina cuts in, reaching out to grip Sana’s elbow. “To _me_. Who are you to me?”

Sana peels Mina’s fingers off her elbow one by one, like flower petals coming into bloom. Then she holds on to Mina’s hand, squeezing hard enough to hurt. “I can’t tell you, Mina. Spoilers.”

A shiver trembles up Mina’s spine at the sound of her name. Her _real_ name. It’s like getting doused in a bucketful of icy water because no one, _no one_ , knows her real name. She had sworn, when she left her home planet hundreds of years ago, that she would never let another soul know her as anything else but the Doctor. Her two heartbeats thunder in her ears, and Mina struggles to keep her composure, to keep from yelling at Sana and demanding to know all of her secrets. 

“How did you — My name. _You know my name_.”

“Again, spoilers.” Sana offers an apologetic smile: a sad, beautiful little thing. “I’m sorry I can’t answer any of your questions, Mina. But I can tell you that one day, a future you will trust me enough to tell me your name. And I hope… I hope that’s enough for you to trust me now.” 

Mina swallows shakily. Nothing about any of this is making sense to her — there are missing puzzle pieces that she may not have until years later. But something in her gut tells her to trust Sana, just like how her future self apparently does.

“The TARDIS scanner said you and I are the only humanoid lives on this entire planet. But there are 4 million souls, consciousnesses of some form, here too. Possibly trapped somewhere.” 

“That's why I called for you, yes.”

“Well, let’s hope we can figure it out, then. And save all of them.” 

This time, when Sana tries for a smile, it reaches her eyes. And Mina catches a glimpse of that same sunshine that lit up Sana’s face when she first opened the TARDIS door.

  
  


Mina regains consciousness in a disoriented haze. Her head is spinning, and there is a streak of dried blood under her nose. 

“I’m sorry.” A familiar voice calls out from the other end of the room. “I had to knock you out.”

Sana. The Library. The _computer_. Everything comes rushing back, making Mina’s head throb painfully. She remembers how both of them had stumbled upon the grim discovery that 4 million people were somehow sucked into the computer’s hard drive, trapped forever in cyberspace. Mina, as she always does, came up with a plan to save them all. If she linked herself to the main core, it would be enough extra memory for the millions of trapped souls to get restored. An eye for an eye, if you will. But what she didn’t account for was Sana. Sana and her refusal to let Mina sacrifice herself. Even if it’s to save 4 million other lives.

Mina tries to get up, to reach the computer before Sana does. But to her horror, Mina finds herself handcuffed to a metal pole.

“Sana.” Mina struggles, trying fruitlessly to free herself from the metal. The horror strangles her hearts in an unrelenting vice grip when she sees Sana strapping herself to the computer’s main hard drive. “Sana. What are you doing? That’s my job!”

“It’s not,” Sana shoots back. “It’s not your time yet, Mina. The universe still needs you.”

“It’s not yours, either! _Please_ , Sana. Just let me do this."

“If it’s you — if you link yourself up to the computer, it will burn through both your hearts and kill you without even giving you a chance to regenerate.” Sana’s crying now, tears spilling down her cheeks. "And if you die here, if you die now, it’ll mean that I’ve never met you. That none of the memories I have of you, of us, will ever exist!”

“Time can be rewritten,” Mina chokes out, desperately trying to reach for her sonic screwdriver on the floor. It must have rolled out of her coat pocket when Sana knocked her unconscious.

“ _No_. Not those times.” Sana’s breathing hitches around a sob. There’s only the main wire link left to connect now, and Sana holds both ends up with trembling hands. “Don’t you _dare_ rewrite them, Mina. Not one line. It’s okay, you’ll see me again. You’ve got all of that to come — just you and me and all of time and space.”

“Sana, please. _Please_.”

“It’s okay, darling. It’s not over for you like it is for me. Just promise me you won’t forget any of it.” Sana smiles through her tears, holding Mina’s gaze for a beat. Then two. 

She connects the wires, and in a flash of blinding light and electric currents, takes her very last breath.

  
  


/

  
  


Mina has always been a heavy sleeper. She’s never up earlier than when she needs to be. And when she’s not exploring new worlds and revisiting favourite places and times, she spends days in bed as the TARDIS floats aimlessly in space.

But Sana changes everything. Even habits Mina has held on to for hundreds of years. 

Whenever Sana sleeps over, Mina wakes up early. She gets out of bed and heads to the kitchen, where the TARDIS has already gotten the coffee machine up and running. 

With a mug of coffee in hand, she wanders back into the bedroom where Sana is still fast asleep. Carefully, she places the mug on the nightstand and then opens the drawer, taking out the film camera she keeps there and snapping a quick photo.

It joins the rest of Mina's collection: photographs of Sana sleeping in the middle of the bed with her arms and legs flung out like a starfish; Sana drooling into her pillow; Sana half-asleep with pillow creases on her cheek. Just Sana, in the moments before she wakes up to greet the sun with a smile that makes Mina's morning come alive.

She must have hundreds and hundreds of photos by now. But Mina never misses capturing every moment. And Sana never asks her to stop, more amused than anything else. She teases Mina instead, 

“Darling, are you some kind of creepy stalker?"

Mina only smiles, snapping another photo of Sana’s wide-toothed grin and crinkled eyes turned crescent-shaped from the weight of a happiness they’ve built together over time. 

  
  


Today though, Sana is more subdued, more pensive when she sees the new photograph on the nightstand. It’s the lingering effects of the fight they had last night. They made up and apologised, both in words and frantic lingering touches. But Mina can read it off Sana’s face — the hint of weariness she tries to hide but doesn’t quite manage to. 

“You know, most people want pretty pictures of their wives,” Sana says with a little wry smile. “But you take photos of me drooling onto my pillow. Why?”

Mina shrugs carelessly, trying to brush off the heaviness in the air. She wants to reply with a smart quip or a joke, something light and carefree. But the shadowed look in Sana’s eyes is haunting, in the way that Mina instinctively knows will stay with her long after the end. Their days have always been numbered. 

Because the first time Mina met Sana, she died. 

All that tumbles out of Mina’s mouth is the truth, simple and raw in its honesty. “I don't want to forget anything.”

The storm clouds in Sana’s beautiful eyes fade away into something softer, into clear skies after heavy rain. She puts down the photograph and reaches for Mina’s hand instead. Her fingers, cool to the touch, trace over the lines on Mina’s palm. “Forget what?”

Mina swallows, echoes of Sana in The Library seeping into the present, taking up all the room in between them. “I just don’t want to forget any of this, all these moments with you.” 

Sana doesn’t say anything. She just lifts Mina’s hand up and presses a kiss to the cradle of her palm. The kiss sears into Mina’s skin like an apology. For the end that’s about to come — a fixed point in time neither of them can run away from. 

  
  


/

  
  


Mina doesn’t cry when she says goodbye to Sana the morning after their last night at the Singing Towers of Darillium. She doesn't cry even though it's the last time — the bookend of an impossible love story, told in the wrong order.

Instead, she runs. Faster and farther than she ever has before. Desperately trying to outrun grief, loneliness, and the spaces Sana left behind. She travels alone, looking past people in a thousand cities on a hundred different planets and constellations, but without taking anything in. Without really living at all.

And then, one ordinary autumn day, in the middle of a department store in 21st century Osaka, she catches the faint scent of perfume from another customer. It's the same one that's Sana's favourite. The one Sana always wears every time they meet.

Mina staggers out of the store, her heart caught in her throat and salt heavy on the roof of her mouth. She stands on the pavement and stares unseeingly at the falling rust-coloured leaves. Memories fight for space at the front of her mind, breaking free from the box she's locked them in for years now.

It's cruel the way Mina remembers everything in sharp relief — the sweet scent that clings to their bedsheets, that lingers on the span of skin in the hollow of Sana's throat. The way it announces Sana’s presence in a room before Mina even turns around to see. 

Loss, devastating loss, crashes into her like a train wreck. And Mina is helpless under the weight of its unrelenting force. Her knees buckle, and it’s so very cruel how reality hits all at once. 

Sana is gone. Mina's lost her wife, the love of her life. _Her sun._

It steals the breath from her lungs, leaving behind only a terrible, paralysing kind of pain. She’s the last of the Time Lords and almost a thousand years old. But all Mina feels right now is exactly what she really is — an old woman who has lost everything. 

  
  


Mina stops running. She shuts herself away, suspended among the stars in the farthest corner of the universe. And finally, she cries.

She decides then that it's a permanent kind of retirement. There is no point exploring all of time and space. Mina has lost Sana, and that is it. The end of everything. 

  
  


The grief settles over her unforgivingly. Like a permanent veil that never lifts off her face. Mina feels time passing, spinning on without Sana, as if her presence hadn’t mattered at all. All the worlds, all the planets in every universe, keep turning.

But Mina doesn’t move on with them. 

  
  


Mina spends her time haunting the halls of her time machine like a ghost, a shell of her former self before Sana. She eats only when she needs to and sleeps often. Because sometimes, if she’s lucky, Mina dreams. She dreams of Sana’s laughter, of her sunlit smile, of the way she always slipped her cold hands underneath the hem of Mina’s shirt when they’re sleeping. Mina had always startled awake and then nudged Sana, scowling down at her for the interrupted slumber. 

Now, Mina startles awake with the memory fresh in her mind, and her lungs full of hot tears. She’d give anything to warm those cold hands now — to hold them and kiss them until they radiate heat. 

But she can’t. So, Mina just sits here, at the threshold of their old bedroom, perfectly preserved since the moment Sana last left it. A monument and a reminder of everything she’s lost. 

Sometimes, if Mina closes her eyes, she can almost imagine it — the sweet scent of Sana’s perfume lingering in the air. 

  
  


/

  
  


Slowly, Mina wakes up, gradually becoming aware of her surroundings. The bed is warm. There’s an arm wrapped around her waist, and Mina feels a smile blossom on her face. She turns around, burrowing into Sana’s embrace. Sana shifts with an unintelligible sleep-drunk sound, fitting her edges against Mina’s own. Her hand, her _cold_ hand, slips underneath the hem of Mina’s shirt. Mina yelps, nudging at Sana’s ribs and forcefully taking Sana’s hand and placing it back on her waist, over her shirt.

“Why are your hands always so cold,” Mina grumbles as she glares down at Sana, who’s blinking up at her sleepily, trying to shake the cobwebs of sleep from her mind.

“Mina,” she murmurs, shifting again until her head finds the dip of Mina’s clavicle. Mina’s hearts can’t help but flutter at the way Sana calls her name. In a voice raspy with sleep, yet full of reverence. “Is it morning?”

Mina sighs, carding her fingers through Sana’s hair — dark brown this time, and falling just past her collarbones. “We’re in a time machine, honey. It’s whatever time you want it to be.”

A lazy kiss is pressed to the underside of Mina’s jaw. “Stay in bed with me?”

She knows she has to go soon, knows that the universe will not allow them more than this. But the bed is so warm and something about a sleep-drunk Sana is so endearing, that Mina simply gives in. “For how long, honey?”

Sana, not nearly fully awake yet, only presses herself closer to Mina. “Forever.”

Mina laughs softly. Then, she sweeps her hand up and down the staircase of Sana’s spine. She smiles when Sana seems to melt under her touch. “Forever is a very long time.”

There’s a pause, one that lingers in the air between them. And then Sana lifts her head, gazing down at Mina with her tousled hair, yet eyes full of fierce clarity.

“But never long enough,” she breathes, words sinking into Mina’s skin with an absolute kind of permanence. 

To quiet the ache building in her chest, Mina tugs on the collar of Sana’s nightdress. Sana follows easily, melting against Mina and catching her lips in the sweetest of _good morning_ kisses. 

  
  


/

  
  


It’s a beautiful morning with clear skies and a lovely breeze that sweeps gently over Mina’s raven hair. She walks back to the TARDIS cheerfully, humming a little tune under her breath. It always feels good to visit her old travelling companions. Nayeon and Jeongyeon are getting on in years now, but they’re doing well. They’re happy with their three dogs and one cat. And sometimes, that’s all that matters. 

When she reaches her blue time-machine, she finds it unlocked, the door cracked open. Mina rolls her eyes. There’s only one other person who has the key. 

She slips inside and shuts the door behind her. She’s expecting to see her wife waiting for her with a soft smile. Or if Sana’s in a mood, with her dress half-unbuttoned and a dangerous glint in her eye. 

What she finds instead is Sana in a shimmering turquoise bodysuit, perched precariously on a ladder next to the console. The lights from the console glimmer off her suit, and Sana glows. Radiant. 

Sana doesn’t notice her, too focused on hanging up what looks like a large painting right over the time rotor. Mina squints at the rose-gold landscape, trying to make sense of the artwork.

With a jolt, she recognises the ancient language of Gallifrey, of her people. It's a poem or a limerick of some kind. Or maybe a motivational quote? Mina's eyes widen as she reads the circular symbols properly, her brain short-circuiting with every word she reads. They're _filthy_ Gallifreyan words. The kind of filthy, dirty things they'd whisper to each other when they're — 

Mina makes a strangled little noise when she recognises the exact words from the last time they went on a honeymoon. Her cheeks grow hot at the memory and honestly, _none_ of it has any business being outside of their bedroom.

Sana turns around and then has the nerve to just beam at Mina. “Hi, darling.”

Mina’s hearts stutter at the familiar greeting. But she’s determined to maintain some semblance of indignation and righteous anger.

“What exactly are you doing?”

“Helping you redecorate.” Sana smirks, gesturing to her work with a flurry of hand movements. Like a museum curator introducing the finest masterpiece. “I painted it earlier while waiting for you to get back. It’s gorgeous isn't it?” 

“You’re _unbelievable_ ,” Mina retorts, crossing her arms. Sana in that bodysuit is incredibly _distracting_ , and Mina’s having trouble remembering that she’s supposed to be mad at her wife for this ridiculous stunt. “And what is that _outfit_?”

Sana hums, eyes glinting with hints of amusement at the way Mina is obviously _affected_. “It's my special Mission for Doctor Myoui Mina outfit.”

Her smirk widens dangerously when she sees the flush deepen in Mina’s cheeks. Sana only ever calls her that — her full name and the title everyone else in the universe (except Sana) calls her by — when they’re in the bedroom. Because Mina likes it, apparently. She’s weak for the way Sana’s voice sounds whenever she says _Doctor Myoui Mina._

As if to torture her even more, Sana climbs down from the ladder with graceful fluidity, moves more sensual than necessary. “Do you like it?” 

“It’s very…” Mina breaks off, words escaping her. God, even her ears must be burning by now. “It’s very — you look uhh —”

Sana's smirk gets lost in an indulgent giggle when Mina's words just trail off helplessly. “I mean do you like the _painting_ , Mina.” 

At the reminder of it, Mina grows flustered all over again. “Like it? You — You — There's _porn_ hanging in the middle of my TARDIS!” 

“It’s not porn,” Sana insists. The corners of her lips quirk when Mina crosses her arms with a huff. “It’s a _poem_ about our last spectacular honeymoon. It’s _romantic_.”

“Only to you,” Mina snipes. She refuses to find the little pout Sana's face has rearranged itself into adorable in any way.

“Darling,” Sana murmurs after a moment of her pouting and Mina resolutely avoiding her eyes. She steps right into Mina's personal space like she's always belonged there. And she’s so close now, close enough for Mina to count the faint freckles on her cheeks. It’s unfair how Mina simply melts. Like she doesn’t have a choice.

She sighs, her hands finding the curve of Sana’s waist over this _damn_ bodysuit. “Just kiss me.” 

Sana obliges of course. She’s never learnt how to say no to Mina anyway.

  
  


/

The water sparkles like diamonds, and Mina steps out of the TARDIS with a smile, breathing in the sea salt heavy in the air. The ocean has always comforted her, carrying all her worries away on white-capped waves. It’s what she feels the both of them need after their date was interrupted by a crack in the skin of reality that had split open one of the walls of the Lego museum they were in.

She wriggles her toes in the sand and takes a tentative step towards the shoreline. She stops just at the edge of the water, letting the water wash over her feet. The breeze is threading salt-worn fingers through her hair. It’s a shade of tranquility that floods over Mina’s bones and cradles her hearts in gentle palms, anchoring her to this moment and not the past or the wretched future.

After a moment of just taking in the sound and soothing scent of the sea, Mina realises she’s still alone. She glances over her shoulder at where the TARDIS is parked further up the beach. The door is opened slightly — a small crack that spills out an orange glow from inside. 

Mina waits, but there’s still no sign of Sana emerging from the TARDIS to join her. And that’s when Mina knows something isn’t quite right. Sana loves the ocean as much as she does, and they’ve spent many lovely sunsets walking along sandy beaches on hundreds of different planets across time and space.

  
  


“Honey?” Mina calls out as she steps into the TARDIS. She takes a minute to wipe the sand off her feet on the doormat before calling out for her wife again. “Sana?”

There's only silence. Mina frowns, eyes scanning over the TARDIS control room even though she knows Sana isn't there. In the amber glow from the time rotor, Sana's Gallifreyan poem shines at Mina, still luminescent as if Sana had just painted the rose-gold script yesterday; it's been years now.

She finally finds Sana in one of the small libraries, next to the swimming pool to the left of the second pantry. Sana is curled up on the window seat, hugging her knees to her chest and staring unseeingly out the window.

A pensive Sana is not a sight that Mina is used to. She's used to a Sana that burns bright, a Sana that lights up the entire room with the strength of her smile alone. 

“Honey? What's wrong?"

The sound of her voice makes Sana clench her jaw for a moment, as though steeling herself. “Earlier, I saw echoes of us.” 

Mina frowns, trying to read the constellation of Sana's thoughts. “In the crack? Yes, I did tell you when it appeared that it's a crack in the skin of reality. A tear in the fabric of the time continuum. And sometimes our past timelines get mixed up —” 

“I saw future echoes, Mina.” 

“Of us?” Mina bites down on the inside of her cheek. Sana's eyes are still shuttered windows, her smile a little too broken around the edges. She tries for something light, something that can chase away the darkness clouding over Sana. “Were we having one of our _spectacular_ honeymoons again?” 

“I saw you,” Sana admits quietly. Mina is startled to see tears glistening in her eyes. “I saw you grieving my death.” 

Mina's hearts stutter to a stop. She stumbles, taking a step back and feeling all the blood drain from her face as Sana looks at her with eyes that are broken shards.

“You were all alone, Mina,” Sana continues, her voice shaking. “Mina, you have to promise me that when the time comes, you can't be alone. _Promise me_ —” 

“Don't, Sana,” Mina manages, squeezing her eyes shut. Sana had just seen her mourning, and while any normal person would be concerned about their own death, Sana's first thought has always been — and will always be — for Mina and her well-being. Mina both hates and loves Sana's selflessness, the way Sana will give up anything to keep Mina safe and happy.

“Mina —” 

“ _Please_ , don't.” Mina cannot do this now. She isn't ready to have this conversation with Sana, isn't ready to talk about the end in any calm, rational way, and especially not with Sana herself.

"Darling, I just don't want you to be alone —” 

“What the _hell_ good would that do?” Mina snaps, the taut lines of fear, heartbreak and aching loss in her chest finally stretched to the breaking point. “The first time I met you, you _died_ —” 

“Mina, you can't. You can't tell me. _Spoilers_.” 

“ _Fuck the spoilers_.” Mina's words tumble out of her like water from a broken dam. Years and years of holding on to the knowledge that they've been living on borrowed time break free from the confines she's kept it in. And spill out onto the floor between them, splintering their relationship into pieces that Mina knows she'll never figure out how to fix. “It doesn't matter anymore. _Nothing_ matters because you _died_. And I couldn't save you. I've spent _years_ trying to figure it out, trying to fix it but I'm never going to be able to save you, Sana. And I'm terrified that one day soon, it'll be our last and I'll have _nothing left_.” 

“Oh, darling. This isn't something you can fix.” Sana's words catch on the edges of her tears. Mina wants so much to go to her, to brush away her tears and kiss her salt-stained cheeks. But the mix of emotions too large for her chest roots her in place. Or maybe it's the way there are no secrets left between them now. No more spoilers.

“I want you to be happy again, Mina. To find someone else to be happy with. I can’t stand the thought of you alone after I’m long gone. _Please_.”

“You really don’t get it, Sana,” Mina begins tremulously. She’s crying now too. “You’ve _ruined_ me for anyone else. No one will ever compare. _No one_ will ever fill the hole you’ll leave behind. So, how can you — how can you ask that of me? Like it’s that _easy_.”

She doesn’t wait for Sana to reply. Just turns away and leaves the room, trying to outrun the raw force of her own emotions, her own heartbreak.

  
  


Hours later, Mina hears footsteps echoing down the stairs. She doesn’t call out to Sana from where she’s hidden underneath the control room, focusing instead on fusing the wires in her hand with her sonic screwdriver.

“Mina?”

Mina shuts her eyes at the tentative voice, but can’t really find it in her to ignore Sana. Without turning around, she asks wearily, “What is it?”

There’s nervous shuffling behind her, and then Sana steps into view. Her eyes are red-rimmed and she’s biting down on her lower lip, worrying it between her teeth.

“I thought,” she ventures hesitantly, watching Mina carefully, as though afraid to upset Mina even more than she already is. “Maybe you’d want to take a walk on the beach with me? It’s almost sunset…”

She trails off when Mina only stares. Slowly, she reaches out and cups the side of Mina’s face. Mina’s eyes slip closed, unable to resist Sana’s touch. Sana grows bolder, brushing the pad of her thumb over the curve of Mina’s cheekbone and sweeping over the line of her jaw. When Sana’s thumb reverently traces her lips, Mina finally breaks. She circles her fingers over Sana’s wrist and presses a kiss to the cradle of Sana’s palm, to the tips of her fingers and across her knuckles.

When she looks up, Sana’s eyes are impossibly dark. She holds Sana’s gaze for a beat. Then two. And then Sana is surging forward, kissing her hungrily, desperately. Mina only kisses back harder, pulling Sana closer and sweeping her tongue into Sana’s mouth.

They make up beautifully — with longing kisses and unspoken apologies pressed into the dip of hipbones and clavicles, seared into every inch of fevered skin.

_I’m sorry. I miss you. Let’s be happy again._

/

  
  


Mina never likes saying goodbye. She's always found goodbyes sad and final — a permanent mark in time that cannot be repeated. Not even for a Time Lord like her. The very idea of no longer being able to repeat this night, this moment right now, fills her hearts with sadness. 

She sighs, tightening her hold on Sana's hand as they walk to the end of the pier where the TARDIS waits. The sky is a beautiful brushwork of orange and reds, with hints of purple swirled in. But Mina can’t really find it in her to appreciate the beauty.

Sana, as if sensing Mina’s reluctance, squeezes her hand. “Stop being so mopey.”

Her smile is all the warmth of sunshine and summer days, even if her cheeks are slightly flushed from the copious amounts of champagne they drank over the last few days. It’s not every day, after all, when you marry the love of your life for the 37th time. It had called for a special kind of celebration.

“I just don’t want this to end.” 

Sana tugs on her hand, pulling them both to a stop right outside the TARDIS door. With her other hand, Sana cups Mina’s cheek, fingers tangling in Mina’s hair. “You know I’ll see you again soon, darling.”

Mina sighs, tipping her head forward until it meets the crook of Sana’s neck. Sana doesn’t pull away or complain about the way Mina’s fingers are curled tight around the collar of her leather jacket. Sana just holds her, with one arm wrapped around Mina’s waist and another looped around Mina’s neck.

“I know.” Mina breathes Sana in — the scent of sweet perfume, desert rain and warm summer days. “I just wish there was some kind of loophole.”

Sana chuckles and Mina feels the bubbles of laughter rumble beneath her cheek. “Well, if anyone can figure out a loophole, it’ll be you _Doctor Myoui Mina_.”

Heat rises up Mina’s cheek at the sound of her full name, folded into the sultry kind of tone Sana reserves for the bedroom. She _knows_ Sana’s doing it on purpose to tease her, because Sana knows exactly how to dismantle Mina in all the best kinds of ways. But Mina has intimate knowledge of Sana too, knowledge that she’s learnt and carefully filed away after years and years of being with her wife.

So, she lifts her head from Sana’s clavicle, just enough to nip on Sana’s earlobe. Then she presses her lips to the spot just under Sana’s ear and smiles into the heat of Sana’s skin at the sharp intake of breath that follows.

“Stop playing dirty, darling,” Sana chides, nudging Mina away from her. But the hint of amused fondness hidden underneath her words and the sparkle in her eyes tell Mina that she’s not really mad.

“You started it, honey,” Mina reminds her. Then, just to fluster Sana more, she tugs on the collar of Sana’s jacket and quiets Sana’s surprised gasp with a fierce kiss: the kind that’s all-consuming and sparks Mina alive. When Sana lets out an involuntary shaky moan, Mina licks into her mouth, chasing the sweet hint of champagne and the addictive taste of Sana.

When they break apart for air, Sana is breathless, eyes half-lidded and a flush over her cheeks. Mina can’t help the way her lips twitch into a little smirk — she loves ruining Sana like this. She always looks so _pretty_ when she blushes, even more when she’s half-dazed with unmistakable desire. 

“ _That_ is how I really play dirty,” Mina says, grinning when Sana huffs and shoots her a half-hearted glare. It’s all kinds of endearing, and Mina gives in to the impulse to lean in and kiss Sana again, softer this time — a delicate butterfly of a kiss that makes both her hearts flutter, and then settle on the branches of Sana’s love.

“Can we visit a museum the next time we meet?” Mina asks, resting her forehead against Sana’s clavicle again. “The new Lego museum that just opened on Earth. In 2017 A.D.”

Sana hums indulgently. Then, she starts swaying them back and forth gently, like they’re slow dancing. They spend minutes like that, dancing to a rhythm no one else but the two of them hear. Until Sana’s vortex manipulator disrupts the comfortable silence with a series of loud beeps. At the same time, the TARDIS hums in warning. 

Reluctantly, Mina lets go of Sana and takes a small step back. “See you soon, honey."

Sana smiles at her, sunlit and iridescent, the light of Mina’s entire universe. “See you soon, darling.”

She’s gone a second later, in a zap of sonic blue light and wisps of smoke. Mina steps into the TARDIS, already counting down to the next time they’ll meet again. 

  
  


/

  
  


Mina stares at the crudely drawn countdown on their bedroom wall. Sana had insisted on drawing it because _how else are we supposed to keep track of 24 years, Mina?_ She had resisted the urge to point out that she has a time machine that will do the job just fine. Or that the vortex manipulator Sana uses to time-travel is equally capable. Instead, she had helped Sana paint 24 neat little squares on the wall. Which then turned into a paint fight and both of them soaking in the bathtub for an hour after.

Most of the squares have been crossed off — they did it together every New Year’s Eve. Most of the squares except the very last one. The sight of it brings an unbearable ache to life beneath Mina’s ribs. It’s a pain she’s not ready to face yet. But even nights on Darillium — nights that last for 24 years — must end.

Because all things end. Even this, even them.

“Mina?”

She turns to find Sana looking at her with sad, liquid eyes. Still, Sana tries for a smile and offers her hand for Mina to take. “Come listen to the Towers with me? Before the sun comes up.”

“Of course, honey.” Mina takes Sana’s hand immediately, interlocking their fingers. _Oh, how she never wants to let go._

  
  


They curl up on the sofa at the balcony, settling in for the very last time. The Towers are beautiful as always. They sing a song so lovely, so haunting, that Mina knows she will spend the rest of her years hearing it in her dreams. 

Mina shifts, resting her head on Sana’s chest, right over where her heart beats. Sana’s warm, and the fabric of her shirt (one of Mina’s old plaid shirts) is soft under Mina’s cheek. Her hand rests securely on Mina’s hip, staking claim over territory that Mina has long given up anyway.

She’s counting Sana’s heartbeat, trying to commit it to memory, when she feels lips press tenderly against her temple. And then Sana’s voice breaks the silence tremulously:

“I think they’ll tell stories about us. About the Doctor, the last of the Time Lords, and an Archaeology Professor who time travels. About how they fall in love despite their messy timelines crossing. And the stories are all about the adventures we had — the dates we went on, the games we played over tea, all our different weddings on all the different planets and galaxies. And how we spent our very last night at the Singing Towers of Darillium. Holding each other close as the Towers sing.”

Mina swallows past the lump in her throat. Her lungs are more salt water than air, and it takes everything in her to hold the tears back. She pulls away, just enough to look at Sana, to rest her eyes upon that beautiful face for one of the very last times.

“Sana —“

“No.” Sana makes a choked kind of sound. Then she shakes her head, like she can tell what Mina wants to say and doesn’t want her to say it. Mina’s words die before she gives them life. Sana offers her a smile so broken, Mina’s heart _aches_. “Don’t apologise, Mina. It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault. Not everything can be avoided, remember? Not forever.”

“I’m a Time Lord,” Mina whispers. She tries for a pained smile but can’t quite manage it. “I’m supposed to always find a loophole.”

“I know.” Sana cups her cheek, running her thumb softly over Mina’s skin and catching the tears that manage to fall anyway. “But all things end, darling. They have to.”

Mina turns her head slightly and kisses the cradle of Sana’s palm. She lets her eyes slip closed. “Not everything. Not love.”

“No.” Mina hears Sana whisper before pressing a kiss to Mina’s forehead. Gentle. Tender. The start of a beautiful goodbye. “Never that.”

  
  


They hold each other close as the Towers sing the last notes of their song. When Sana kisses her goodbye, Mina tastes heartbreak and loss. And she knows, with every fibre of her being: she will never be loved this fiercely again. 

  
  


/ 

**Author's Note:**

> @skyclectic on twitter and curious cat.
> 
> so, come drop by to say hi or share your thoughts or ask me anything, really. <3


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